


Five Nights at Freddy's: A.R.K. of the Covenant

by soapostate



Category: Five Nights at Freddy's
Genre: Bible, Bigender Character, Christian Character, Christianity, Five Nights at Freddy's - Freeform, Gay Character, Gay Male Character, Homophobia, Homophobic Language, LGBTQ Character of Color, Lesbian Character, Lesbian Character of Color, Mentioned Animatronics (Five Nights at Freddy's), Nondenominational Christian, Possessed Animatronics (Five Nights at Freddy's), Sentient Animatronics (Five Nights at Freddy's), Summer, Summer Camp, Trans Female Character, bible school, conversion camps, fnaf - Freeform, there are some animatronics at a bible camp and shit goes down
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-04
Updated: 2021-01-20
Packaged: 2021-03-15 01:15:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28555245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soapostate/pseuds/soapostate
Summary: When Taylor gets shipped off to overnight, all-summer bible camp for her various sinful gay crimes, the last thing she expected to have to deal with was haunted animatronics spouting shit about Jesus. Sometimes it just works out like that.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 5





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> hi! this is a story i'm working on about some animatronics that were created for a megachurch bible camp that doubles as a conversion camp and overnight, all-summer boarding school-type thing. here's a little tiny prologue just to get you in on the concept and stuff! thank you for reading :D

“A Bible school wants animatronics?”

One of the workers’ voices echoed through the warehouse as everyone began clocking into work. “What the fuck are they gonna do with some robots?”

“Hell if I know,” Another replied. “I just know they don’t wanna be associated with the Fazbear brand—they just want some animatronic guys of their own, I guess, and we make ‘em better than anyone. They want a lion, a lamb, a jackal, and some other thing I can’t remember.”

“Jesus, that’s a lot just for a Bible school. Best animatronics...do we, though? I feel like we’ve got more death cases on our hands than any of the other companies tryna get on the market.”

“Yeah, I guess, but we get paid good, and ours don’t break so fast. They’re smarter, too.”

“Not smart enough to tell between a person and an endoskeleton, apparently. Did you read that thing Forbes did on Afton the other day?”

“Nah, I didn’t. Send it to me.”

“It was nasty. I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s in a shitty mood today.”

“He’s in a shitty mood every day, Mark.”

“...Yeah.”


	2. John 16:33

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Taylor is introduced to Ark of the Covenant Bible School and Recovery Program.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the first real chapter! I hope you enjoy it...the first few chapters will have less animatronic shenanigans so I can develop the human characters first. Then we'll get into the juicy stuff >:D

“I have told you these things, so that in me you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world.”

John 16:33

* * *

“It’s gonna be fun,” Taylor’s father purred as he coaxed his shiny new pickup truck into the large parking lot of the even larger flimsy metal warehouse-like building in front of them. “You’ll have a good time. Learn some stuff. When you get back, we can go to dinner or something.”

Taylor shrugged off the sweaty, calloused hand that sat heavily on her shoulder. She didn’t want to talk to him. She felt sick. “You know, they’ve got some...they’ve got some of those robots there. Like the Fazbear-type stuff. Maybe you can learn some about how those work, yeah? We used to go to Freddy’s all the time,” Her dad awkwardly continued as he pulled into a parking spot, shutting the truck off with a press of the little button by the steering wheel.

  
The large man got out of the truck and went to the back to get out Taylor’s duffel bag of stuff she’d brought. Taylor didn’t get out. “Oh, c’mon. Don’t do this now,” Her father said with a strained smile as a man and a woman clad in bright t-shirts, the sort one might see at some sort of fundraiser, came out of the building through its metal doors.

“Are you Mike and Taylor Winters?” The woman, a young, short lady with brown hair pulled into a low ponytail, asked as they approached Taylor’s father. She clutched a clipboard covered in stickers happily declaring the word of God and boasting the logo of a nonprofit called Ark of the Covenant. The man followed behind her, almost unnaturally tall and thin. He peered into the passenger seat window to look at Taylor, his gaze cold and unemotional. He could probably already tell her predicament by her freshly dyed purple hair.

“Yeah, that’s us!” Her dad answered with too much vigor. “Taylor’s just gettin’ her stuff out of the front seat,” He excused her static state with a strained voice. “C’mon, don’t be shy.”  
  


Taylor sighed, and, despite every muscle in her body telling her to stay seated, opened the truck door and climbed out, slinging her backpack over her shoulder. “Hi.”  
  


“Hey, Taylor!” The woman’s voice carried such a fake-sweet tone it made Taylor’s teeth nearly ache. “I’m Ms. Gregory,” She extended her hand, which Taylor hesitantly shook. Her skin prickled beneath the gazes of her father, Ms. Gregory, and the tall man. 

“This is Mr. Johnson,” Ms. Gregory pointed to the man, smile never faltering. Mr. Johnson didn’t smile, instead offering a curt nod. His pale blue eyes seemed to stare through Taylor. “We’re so happy to have you here, Taylor. I know it may seem scary right now, and you probably hate all three of us, but I promise we are just doing what’s best for you. Homosexuality—gosh, I hate that word—is a sin. And we’re here to help you recover.”  
  


“‘Kay,” Taylor said dully, feeling numb. She didn’t want to be here. This was stupid. She was fifteen. She should be at home, enjoying her summer with her friends. With Harper.

Her dad handed Taylor her duffel bag so that he could sign whatever Ms. Gregory had clipped to her clipboard, all smiles and small talk. The hot summer sun barreled down on the four, heating the blacktop beneath their feet and forming sweat on their brows. Once her father had completed the forms, he handed back the clipboard with a wide smile and gave Taylor one last uncomfortable, around-the-shoulder side hug. “You’ll do good here, kid,” He said cheerfully. “I’ve got faith in you, okay? Just gotta have faith in yourself. I love you. I’ll see you in August.”  
  


Taylor didn’t respond. With that, Mike Winters very hurriedly got back in his red pickup and drove off until he vanished from the parking lot and from his daughter’s life for the rest of the summer. The three remaining victims of the burning asphalt remained where their feet had planted them, watching the crimson truck until it turned a corner and was gone. Ms. Gregory cleared her throat in the following silence. “So! With goodbyes out of the way, it’s time we showed you around our place,” She said, voice keeping its forced cheer. “Mr. Johnson, can you take Taylor’s bags to her room?”

Mr. Johnson did as he was told, taking Taylor’s duffel bag and backpack from her without a word and vanishing into the facility. She had wanted to keep her backpack with her but didn’t want to argue with him. Taylor and Ms. Gregory answered the warehouse-like building soon after, a rush of cool air hitting them as they entered. Taylor let out a silent sigh of relief as she escaped the summer heat, but it was short-lived, as now she was in a giant Bible school compound thing.

“This here’s our little entrance room. We call it the lobby,” Ms. Gregory said, acting as if calling a lobby ‘the lobby’ was some sort of cool inside joke.

The lobby was a plain room with metal-lined walls, giving them the experience of being inside a large shipping container without actually being in one. Fluorescent lights dutifully buzzed above them, causing Taylor to notice the headache already forming in her temples. The concrete floors of the room were partially covered in old oriental rugs and cheap carpets, and a corkboard on the wall opposite the door boasted all of the wonderful things Ark of the Covenant had to offer along with photos of smiling kids. A desk sat at one side of the room, presumably for parents wanting to learn about the camp, and a table with a tapped Kilner jar of lemon water sat on the other side. 

Aside from all of the decoration that just made the room look more pathetic, what really caught Taylor’s attention was the various images of two anthropomorphic animals, a rainbow-maned lion and a lamb clad in a silk scarf. Some images boasted a sinister-looking coyote-type animal as well, but it wasn’t as common as the lion and the lamb. Those must be the Freddy Fazbear-style animatronics her father was talking about.

After the lobby, Ms. Gregory led Taylor down a dimly lit hallway and past a bunch of wooden doors. “These are all of our classrooms,” She explained, stopping to open one of the doors a crack, showing her new subject a small room with a large round table in the center. About six kids a bit younger than her, maybe twelve or thirteen, were sat at the table alongside a middle-aged, bushy-bearded man. All of them were reading the Bible. The man looked up as Ms. Gregory opened the door and smiled. Unlike Ms. Gregory and Mr. Johnson, this man’s smile seemed genuine. “Hello, Ms. Gregory,” He said, eyes flitting to Taylor. “And you must be our new friend here. I’m Mr. Williams. I’m the Bible Study teacher here at Ark. I handle our fundraising events and such as well.”  
  


Taylor nodded and said her ‘nice to meet you’s before she and Ms. Gregory continued on, their journey neverending. Next on their quest was what Ms. Gregory oh-so-cleverly called the auditorium, which was, as expected, an auditorium. Well, it was actually a room meant to be a basketball court, but there was a stage behind where one of the goals would have been, so it was an auditorium now. The other goal opposite the stage remained, presumably so that some of the ‘students’ here could play basketball during their free time.

The stage’s red curtains were drawn, so Taylor couldn’t see what was behind them, but she assumed it was those animatronics she’d seen on the posters. Her guess was confirmed when Ms. Gregory gave her the spiel. “The auditorium is where we have assemblies and sermons. We like to get guest pastors here when we can, but usually, one of us does the preaching,” She said. “It’s sort of a multi-purpose room, as we use it as the cafeteria, too. Sometimes we let the boys play basketball in here if they’re good,” She said. “We keep the animatronics backstage as well. We usually bring them out for the younger ones, so you won’t see too much of them in your program.”

“Man. I was really looking forward to that,” Taylor muttered.

“Well, perhaps if you are on your best behavior, you can see them,” Ms. Gregory replied, obviously not picking up on her monotony.

“Well—yeah, sure.”

Next up was the kitchen, which was pretty uneventful. Then was the library, which was a middle-school library type of room with mismatched bookshelves full of books about Jesus and various tables and chairs set aside for reading and researching. At the moment, a few little kids were sat at said tables working hard on a poorly copied image of an angel out of a coloring book.

A few more basic things went by, like the bathrooms and chapel, before Taylor was finally, finally ushered towards the bunkrooms. Hers was Bunkroom 7, which Ms. Gregory said was good, as seven was one of the Lord’s numbers. Bunks were organized by age to assure that Taylor would be comfortable with kids her own age, she said, so that was alright. She opened the door, which had a little preschool-esque lamb decal with a seven scribbled on it in Sharpie taped to it, and revealed her new home.

The bunkroom itself was rather uninteresting. It was a dark room lit by a generic ceiling fan light, with most of its volume being taken up by two sets of bunk beds and two dressers. A faded poster of the rainbow-maned lion was plastered on the one empty wall, which was the one opposite the door and above the dressers, making it the only color in the room. Plain navy quilted bedspreads covered the bunk beds, though the quilts were far too heavy for the summer they were currently trudging through. The concrete floor was covered with a gross-looking mat of the same navy. One of the bottom bunks, the one on the right side of the room, had Taylor’s bags on it.

“Your roommates should return from their walk outside in a few minutes,” Ms. Gregory said, not moving from her spot at the doorway. “You can unpack while we wait.”

Taylor didn’t reply, but walked over to what she assumed was now her bed to unzip the duffel bag she had packed her clothes in. However, when she reached it, she found the bag was already unzipped and partially unpacked, some of its contents dumped on the bed. “Mr. Johnson went through your things to make sure you didn’t pack anything...unsavory,” Ms. Gregory explained when Taylor shot her a rather incredulous questioning look.

Taylor’s annoyance was increased as she noticed her blue backpack had been gutted as well. She quickly grabbed it and took frantic inventory, but before she could let out her cocked and loaded groan of dismay, Ms. Gregory interjected yet again. “I believe Mr. Johnson took your phone and the subsequent charger and earbuds,” She said, her fake-nice tone barely concealing her smugness. “As well as your wallet and the book you had brought— _The Miseducation of Cameron Post_ , yes? We will take good care of everything, and we won’t spend your money or anything. This is just for your own protection, as well as abiding by our rules. No phones and no unorthodox reading materials, and we don’t want your money being stolen. Not that we think anyone here would steal it.”  
  


The phone thing was sort of expected, but Taylor brought it anyway because she didn’t want her dad having her phone for the whole summer. What really pissed her off was that she knew she wasn’t getting her book back, even after the end of this shitty camp. Half of the book was about how gay-bad camps were worse than the gays they kept—of course they would take it. It was stupid to bring it at all, but Taylor had stupidly hoped that the counselors or whatever they were called here wouldn’t know what it was about. She just liked the book, damn it.

After a few minutes of silence as Taylor went through the dressers until she found empty drawers to shove her shit in, the muffled laughter of ferocious teenagers swirled through the hallway, growing louder and louder until three teens around Taylor’s age arrived at the door to Bunkroom 7. Their giggles stopped as they realized Ms. Gregory was waiting in the doorway, and all three peered inside at Taylor. “This is your new roommate, Taylor Winters,” Ms. Gregory said stiffly.

“Hi,” Taylor said, turning around to look at the trio. 

Three teenagers, two more masculine and one more feminine, were looking at her with interest. The feminine one gave a rather pretty smile and stepped forward, extending her hand for a handshake. “Hi, Taylor! I’m Kennedy,” She said happily. “I am so excited to have another girl here so that we can both practice forming healthy female relationships!”

Taylor shook her hand, caught rather off-guard by the girl’s excitement. Kennedy was a little bit shorter than Taylor herself, so probably around 5’6, and had tan skin and black hair. She wore a plaid skirt, presumably the uniform, but had a gray hoodie pulled over it despite the weather. Taylor shook her hand. It was cold. “Uh, yeah.”  
  


Kennedy wasn’t phased by Taylor’s lack of enthusiasm, turning to gesture to the other two. “Don’t be rude, boys,” She urged. “That’s Mateo and Owen,” She introduced them, pointing to each as she said their names.

Mateo was a thin guy with the same general complexion as Kennedy, if not a bit darker. He was clad in ill-fitting khakis and a polo shirt, which was only half tucked in. His black hair was very curly, almost reaching past his eyebrows. Dark bags under his eyes made him look incredibly tired, but he still shot her a grin and withdrew one of his hands from his pockets to shake hers. “Nice to meet you, Taylor,” He said, his voice low and pleasant.

Owen was next, looking more uncomfortable than anyone in the room. He was rather tall, probably around 6’1, and his dark skin contrasted the light polos he and Mateo were wearing. He wore a silver watch on his right hand. “Welcome,” He didn’t offer to shake her hand, but gave her a friendly nod.

“Alright, now that you’ve all met, behave while I go and get Taylor’s uniforms,” Ms. Gregory said, stepping out of the room after impatiently waiting through the introductions. “Make sure she puts her things in the right places, Kennedy.”

“Yes ma’am!” Kennedy said loudly, then turned to Taylor again, losing her smile and looking Taylor dead in the eyes. “Alright, before she comes back, here’s the rundown—but first, are you a snitch or not? You look gay enough to not be into this shit.”

“I’m, uh, not...a snitch,” Taylor stuttered. “And...uh, yeah, I’m gay.”

“Poggers,” Kennedy said, looking relieved. It was very strange to hear someone say that in the middle of a Bible camp. “Welcome to God town, my friend,” She grinned with a wink, this time looking much more genuine. “Where we kill gays for sport and praise our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.”  
  


Mateo went over and hopped up the ladder of the bunk bed that Taylor’s stuff wasn’t on, perching on one of the upper rungs and folding his thin legs under him on one of the lower rungs. “We also have robots!” He added with fake cheer.

“And...uh, shitty food,” Owen said with a small smile, sitting on the bottom bunk of the bunk bed Mateo was on. He spoke in a higher tone than he did when Ms. Gregory was there.

“Right,” Kennedy gave a dutiful nod to the other two. “Anyway, before Lisa—I mean, _Miss Gregory_ —gets back, what’s up with you? Anything we oughtta know?” She asked, sitting on Taylor’s bed next to her stuff and giving her an inviting look.

Taylor was definitely off her game. The constant shift in tones was too fast for her to handle, so she continued her stumbling attempt at talking to her new roommates. “I...no, I don’t think so,” She said. “Just...yeah. Nothing really.”  
  


“Alright, cool,” Kennedy nodded, then looked at Owen. “Maya?”

“Oh, yeah,” He said, looking at Taylor. “Call me Maya, please. When the teachers aren’t around. She/her, too.”  
  


“Oh, okay,” Taylor said. Man, this place had gotten its dirty hands on transgender people too? That sucked.

“And you can call me Kennedy or Ken; I sort of switch between,” Kennedy added nonchalantly. “She or he. She/her around Greggy.”  
  


“He/they,” Mateo chimed in.

“Cool,” Taylor nodded, making a note of that. “I—so none of you are on board with this Jesus shit?”  
  


“Ha!” Mateo laughed. “No way, ma’am,” He said with a grin. “We all hate it here.”  
  


“Yeah,” Maya chimed in. “I’ve been sent here for the past two summers, plus this one,” She said. “This is my third. Never works, but I think my mom just doesn’t wanna deal with me during the break at this point. I’ll be eighteen before next summer, though, so this is my last.”  
  


“This one’s my second,” Kennedy said, pulling one of her legs under her. “Same with you, right, Mateo?”

  
“Yeah,” Mateo nodded. “Second time’s the charm, baby.”

  
“I don’t think that’s how it works,” Maya replied.

“Okay, smartass,” Mateo retorted right before the click of Ms. Gregory’s heels interrupted the fledgling argument.

The short woman peeked into the room and smiled, her hands full of folded skirts and polo shirts. “It seems you’re all getting along wonderfully,” She said with a smile.

“Oh, absolutely, Ms. Gregory,” Kennedy piped, slipping back into the brownnosing persona she’d carried when first meeting Taylor. “It’s so exciting to have someone new in our program!”  
  


“I am so glad you feel that way, Kennedy,” Ms. Gregory replied before turning to Taylor. “Here are your uniforms, Taylor. You will wear them from eight a.m. to four p.m.. After that, you can wear some of the clothes you brought with you, as long as they’re appropriate for your location and gender.”  
  


Gross. Uniforms. “Thanks,” Taylor took the pile of folded clothes and set them on the dresser to put away later. It was already almost four according to the clock on the wall above the dumb lion poster, so she wasn’t going to change into them today. Hopefully, they wouldn’t make her.

“Of course, dear,” Ms. Gregory smiled. Taylor was beginning to hate her smile. “Now, you have an hour of recreation until dinnertime, and I have a class to teach until then. Why don’t you three give Taylor a tour of your own?”  
  


“That sounds lovely,” Kennedy agreed, giving the other three in the room a mischievous look. “I’ll make sure nothing gets out of hand, Ms. Gregory.”  
  


“I know you will.”


	3. Proverbs 17:17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Taylor gets to know the Recovery Program kids.

"A friend loves at all times, and a brother is born for adversity."

Proverbs 17:17

* * *

“Yeah, this is the conference room,” Kennedy said, pointing at an old, heavy table on top of a dusty oriental rug. Mismatched chairs surrounded it. “It’s for when parents want to come to see how their kids are doing or if one of us makes an uh oh.”

“Radical,” Taylor said, then cringed. She needed to stop saying that. It was very stupid, yet somehow managed to claw its way up from the deepest depths of her psyche at the most inopportune times. After a pause, she continued. “What’s—speaking of that, what’s the punishment system here? Like, what’ll they do if they catch me, like, kissing a girl, or something?”

Mateo laughed. “They’ll feed you to the robots,” He replied, leaning against the wall with a grin.

“That stopped being funny, like, a year ago,” Kennedy rolled her eyes, making sure to be extra dramatic about it. She opened her mouth to answer Taylor’s question, but Maya cut her off.

“It depends on the severity of your crimes,” Maya said, her voice light and quiet. “A kid that used to be a part of the program called me Maya once in front of Jefferson and we both were on bot cleaning duty for a week. I nearly lost a finger cleaning the lion.”

“Why do they even have those things?” Taylor asked, getting off-topic but genuinely curious. What did a Bible school need that a gigantic robot fursona could fix?

The now-quartet began walking down another hallway once again on their ambling tour, Mateo now in the lead. “Honestly, I don’t even know, man,” Mateo shrugged. “They’ve been here since before any of us got sent here for repairs, just doing shows for the kids and walking around at night.”

“Yeah, I think that’s mostly it,” Maya nodded in agreement. “They do little performances and sing hymns or whatever. Preach about the Lord and stuff."

“Wait, they walk around at night?” Taylor said, holding up her hand to stop Maya. “Isn’t that how a night guard at one of the arcades died?”

“Hell if I know, I’m not some true-crime junkie,” Kennedy offered helpfully. “Ms. Greg says it’s for security and to make sure none of us skedaddle in the middle of the night. It keeps all their shit from locking up and rusting, too, I think.”

“That’s weird as shit,” Taylor responded as Mateo pushed open a set of double doors after unlocking them with a lanyard-attached key Kennedy tossed him.

“Yeah,” Maya agreed. Mateo opened the doors to reveal the exit, allowing the group a breath of fresh air and nearly blinding them with the bright light of the sun.

The four tumbled out into the grassy field that surrounded the warehouse Ark of the Covenant was set up in, allowing them a wonderful view of just how far away from any other civilization they were. It was just field, field, field, for miles and miles around. A fence in the distance seemed to keep a few dark-coated horses in check, but aside from that and a few birds chirping on the roof of the Ark, it felt like they were the only living things in their isolated world.

Kennedy led them all over to a collection of flat stones and logs set up so that they could sit in the shade of one of the very few trees in the area. It was incredibly hot, but the wind made it a little better. At the moment, it felt like anything was better than being in the warehouse. “You can just go outside whenever you want?” Taylor asked, sitting on a log alongside Mateo.

“I got the staff to trust us enough to let us, for now,” Kennedy said, twirling the lanyard around her wrist and hand after Mateo gave it back. “As long as we don’t fuck it up, and we only go out when we’ve got free time.”

“What if you just...ran?” Taylor asked rather incredulously. They could just be out of here, just like that. They _literally_ had the key.

“It’s not like we’re prisoners, Taylor,” Maya responded, her voice lacking any humor. “We have families, even if they think we’re sinners or whatever. I’m not going to run off and lose my college fund and my dogs and shit just because I don’t want to spend the summer in a no-trans zone. Besides, where would we even go?” She gestured to the practical grassland around them.

“Good point,” Taylor replied, her hope of not having to spend the summer in this hellhole shriveling. “I just—I do not want to be here,” She said with a sigh. She had been trying to act like it wasn’t affecting her, but it was. She wanted to seem alright in front of these kids, who all seemed so...nonchalant about it. But she couldn’t be. She wanted to go home and be with her friends and her cat and her dog and Harper. “I don’t want to—”

“I feel you,” Mateo said, pulling one of his knees to his chest. “None of us _want_ to be here, but it’s better than being homeless.”

“It’s just...so fucked up,” Taylor’s words began to stumble out in a very unprofessional way, pointing her hands up and then out in parallel blades to express her frustration. “And the fact that they’ve got, like, little kids and shit here too, at the same time as us, in the same place, doing coloring books and playing with robots and shit while they’re gonna try to de-gay us—”

“I know. It really is fucked,” Taylor hadn’t realized she’d been tearing up until Mateo leaned over and put one of his gangly arms around her comfortingly. She hadn’t really had the time to properly process this—one day she was sitting around, excited for summer, and the next, her dad was going through her iMessages, finding out about Harper, and booking an all-summer stay at Ark of the Covenant Bible School and Recovery Program. “But the staff here just care about money and spreading the word of Jesus or whatever. It’ll be okay. It’s just for the summer, and lucky for you, we all know how shit works around here. We got this.”

“Yeah, don’t worry about it, Taylor,” Kennedy chimed in. “The worst thing you’ll have to do is talk about vague emotional shit with Ms. Gregory like why you like pussy. The rest we’ve got in the bag. Between the three of us, we probably know the Bible front to back.”

“It’s just—I dunno, I’m just—” Taylor stuttered, now crying. Mateo held her tight, the smell of whatever cologne he was wearing oddly comforting. “I want to go home,” God, she felt like such a baby. Crying to people she barely even knew about how she wanted to go home.

“You’ll get to go home in just a couple of months,” Maya said with weak optimism, obviously not great at handling crying lesbians. Nobody replied for a moment, causing her to sit there a bit awkwardly. “I...So, uh, why are you here?”

Mateo shot Maya a glare, which she shrugged at as if to say _I dunno what else to talk about!_ . Taylor chuckled a little and sniffled, pulling away from Mateo a little to sit up. “I...uh...my dad went through my phone when I was asleep, just like two days ago,” She answered. “I had—I was—”

“Doin’ the digital dirty, baby,” Ken said with a wide grin, which drew another glare from Mateo.

“Y...yeah, I guess, wait, NO,” Taylor did that laugh-cry thing she often did when she was trying to feel better but was still pretty upset. She ran her hand through her short hair, almost instinctively hoping she didn’t get purple all over her hands. Luckily, she didn’t. “I was just, I dunno. I loved a girl, and I think she liked me,” She said. “We never—we never did anything. We just flirted a little. I wasn’t even sure if she was serious, or gay, or anything...she had a boyfriend and stuff.”

“Ah!” All three of the other gays gave extremely similar looks of disgust and pity. Kennedy groaned. “Taylor, dude!” She said incredulously, nearly falling off of her stone perch. “You can’t _do_ that! That’s a disaster just _waiting_ to happen!”

“I know that now!” Taylor responded with an embarrassed, tearful laugh. “I was stupid—I dunno, I just—”

“You wanted the WOMEN! I do not blame you!” Maya, usually the quietest of them all, interjected with a grin. “But you were a fool to choose one already claimed!”

“I KNOW,” Taylor agreed, exasperated as they all descended into hysterical giggles. Being able to laugh about it like this made the ache in her heart feel like a little less of a big deal, even if it still hurt a ton. 

The quartet laughed for way too long for something not very funny, and probably would have laughed longer if not for the interruption of Mr. Williams, who poked his head out of the double doors to the Ark, soon followed by the rest of his body. “I’ve been looking for you folks! Seems you’re already getting along well!” He said, his voice a pleasant rumble. His bushy brown beard split with a white smile. “It’s five-thirty; dinnertime! Ms. Gregory won’t want you to miss grace.”

* * *

Mr. Williams sat the group of teens at the main table (or, a bunch of foldable tables set up in a long formation) in the auditorium alongside a cluster of at least ten six year olds, twenty nine year olds, and a few disgruntled preteens. Ms. Gregory, Mr. Jefferson, and Mr. Williams all sat at the front of the table alongside another, older-looking woman and bald man wearing a clerical collar. Mr. Williams spread them out among the children, as Taylor had been warned would happen. Mateo said on the way there that while they wanted the ‘Recovery Kids’ as they were called to hang out together, they didn’t want them to have too much time together and reaffirm their sinful actions. So, the best way to do that apparently was to make them sit apart at meals.

The Recovery Kids were sat in a zig-zag pattern across the long table, giving Taylor a good view of both Maya and Kennedy. Mateo got stuck at the end of the table, so he could only see Maya. “Good evening, everyone,” The bald clerical-collar man said from where he sat at the head of the table after letting everybody get settled in.

“Good evening, Father Evans,” Came the reply, nearly synchronous. That was creepy.

“Thank you, friends,” The reverend smiled, showing too-white teeth. His bald head shone with holy radiance as it reflected the fluorescent lights above, giving him the overall appearance of a weirdly religious Mr. Clean. “Let us all join hands and say grace, hm?”

Everyone around the table held up their hands and linked them with whoever was adjacent to them, leaving Taylor holding hands with an acne-ridden redhaired preteen and what seemed like a kindergartener of some sort. “Heavenly Father, we thank you for this bounty you have provided for us. Please bless our food, our campers, and our staff, all who have made this meal special. Amen.”

“Amen,” said everyone, all at once again. Kennedy shot Taylor a crazy-eyed look, making her silently chuckle.

This was definitely weird to Taylor. She’d never been raised super religiously—after her mother left, her dad stopped putting forth the effort to take her to church or anything. That’s one of the many reasons it made so little sense to Taylor that her father had sent her to this super religious camp. Maybe he’d just panicked?

The food was served by a few volunteers only a few years older than Taylor wearing tye-dye shirts spouting some Jesus bullshit about helping those who’d wandered from the pasture or something. It was a quesadilla, probably pre-frozen, and an apple. Taylor wasn’t a picky eater, so it wasn’t too terrible. At least it wasn’t the schlop often served in shitty summer camps on TV. It was just sort of... _boring_. It wasn’t like she could make much conversation with the various younger kids around her.

Actually, _they’d_ make conversation with _her_ . “So you’re one of the…” A short, snot-nosed blond kid, probably around eight or nine, whispered across the narrow table at her. “The gay ones, right?”

Taylor almost spat out her water. “Uh...yeah?” She said quietly back, but she couldn’t sneak past the amused glances and inaudible snickers of Maya and Kennedy. “W...Why do you ask?”

“‘Cause, everybody’s sayin’ you’re a bad one,” The kid reported with an earnest whisper. “But I don’t think so...Moses n’ Ruth say ‘man shall not lie with man’, but you’re not a man and you’re not lying with a man.”

Well then. “That’s...yeah, that’s an interesting way of putting it, I guess,” Taylor nodded, speechless. “I—”

“Actually, no, you are bad, ‘cause you made your hair purple, and your body is a temple n’ stuff,” The kid changed his mind rather quickly.

“Wait, my hair isn’t a part of my body–” Taylor began to argue, then realized she was about to argue over religion with an elementary schooler. “Y’know what, yeah.”

“Yeah,” The kid went back to eating as if nothing had happened, leaving Taylor very confused and desperately wanting to get out of here.

Eventually, dinner was dismissed, meaning it was time for chores. Taylor had yet to be assigned her own tasks, so she followed Kennedy around and helped her out. They had to do laundry, which meant going around to all of the currently in-use bunkrooms and picking up everybody’s sheets. During this trek around the Ark, as the bunkrooms were located in completely opposite locations for some reason (Kennedy said it was because the building used to be a storage warehouse, so it wasn’t built with storing kids in mind), as well as their time in the laundry room, they had many interesting discussions:

“So, why are you in here?” Taylor dared to ask Kennedy as they lugged the laundry baskets on what Ken called the Laundry Cart (she specified that it must be capitalized).

Kennedy sighed. “I can’t remain a cryptid forever, I suppose,” She said dramatically. “Despite having known you for less than twelve hours, I will indulge you.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“I was caught in the act, my dude,” Kennedy said, not making eye contant yet still attempting to seem indifferent. Her usually impish grin had become one of embarrassment. “Had a girl over to my house, wasn’t expecting my parents to get home late from date night.”

“Uh oh,” Taylor said, actually a little surprised. She wasn’t quite sure of what to say. She’d never...yeah. “What...what made you get sent back again this time?”

“Search history,” Kennedy still didn’t make eye contact. “Anyway. We need to grab Bunkroom 5’s shit—they’re like, two left turns away. This place is a fuckin’ maze, so you gotta learn this for when you’re doing it on your own.”

Kennedy had successfully changed the subject, so they continued their chores in relative silence for a while, occasionally broken by random stories or questions. Taylor learned that Kennedy had been a Catholic school kid since she was super little, so she knew how to work Christian schools and camps, easy. She herself was agnostic, but she didn’t really like to talk about her beliefs. Instead, she told Taylor about her cat, Horse. She said that she’d been a horse girl when she was younger and had begged her parents for a horse, so they got her a cat named Horse as a compromise. They’d been best friends ever since.

In exchange, Taylor told Kennedy about her dog Gertrude and her cat Bean, along with the many houseplants she had that were probably going to die very quickly now that she wasn’t there to take care of them. Not that they stayed alive very long while they were in her care anyway.

The pair eventually managed to finish the laundry, folding it and delivering it back to the proper owners accompanied by relatively boring small talk. The most interesting thing Taylor found out was that Kennedy’s middle name was Maria.

After completing their adventure in laundry, Kennedy and Taylor returned to Bunkroom 7, their own rooms’ sheets clutched in their arms. They were the last ones to return, as laundry was one of the longest chores, so Maya and Mateo were already settled in by the time they returned. It was about eight thirty by then, so both of them were showered and relaxing in their slightly cramped room. “Sup, nerds,” Mateo greeted from his superior height on the top bunk. He was wearing a blue towel robe. “Do you have our sheets?”

“Yes, your Highness,” Kennedy mock bowed, which was an impressive feat when her hands were full of sheets. She dropped them on the floor. “Hope you did a good job mopping,” She said with a shit-eating grin, eyes narrowed. She picked up her own sheets and climbed to the other top bunk to put her own sheets on as everyone else grabbed their sheets and pillowcases.

Taylor set up her bed rather quickly, trying her best to ignore the empty feeling in her chest. She didn’t want to think about how this was the first of many days she’d be spending away from home. She pulled out a stuffed bear she’d brought with her—she’d had it since she was a kid—and hid it under the covers before grabbing her stuff to go shower.

Kennedy showed Taylor to the women’s showers, which were a little bit of a walk away. More slightly awkward time traversing the Ark with her. Ms. Gregory was sitting right by the door, making sure no funny business went on in the naked zone. Luckily, Taylor and Kennedy obeyed the rules, not getting undressed until they were in their separate shower stalls and therefore safe from any gay happenings.

After their showers, the pair returned to Bunkroom 7 to settle in for the night. There was no common room, so their small room was the hangout spot for the night. They arrived back at their room at about nine fifteen clad in pajama pants and t-shirts While they didn’t have phones, there was a small box TV on one of the dressers, which was playing some Christian Hallmark movie-type thing. At least it provided some background noise. A radio sat on the other small dresser, but the TV had the stage for now.

Taylor climbed into her new bed and pulled out one of the notebooks she’d brought from her backpack, flipping through to a fresh page. She drew a little smiley face in it, then wrote ‘First Day in Hell’ at the top along with the date, June 19th, 2020. She started doodling with a blue ballpoint pen, first drawing the warehouse itself and then little doodles of each of her new roommates. She wasn’t the best artist, but it was good enough. It kept her distracted for a little bit.

“So, how was your first day?” Maya asked, shutting the book she’d been reading and looking over to Taylor. She gave a humorous smile. “I know it was shit.”

Taylor laughed a little nervously. “Wasn’t great,” She answered, setting down her notebook. 

“You draw?” Mateo peered over the edge of his top bunk, brows raised slightly with interest.

“Not really. Just don’t have much else to do,” Taylor replied.

“Valid,” said Mateo. “Damn it, I shoulda grabbed some games from the event room before the animatronics got set free,” He said with a sigh. “They keep some board games in the younger kids’ event rooms. Ol’ Gregory says it’s okay to take them as long as we put them back before they’re needed, but now we’ve got the murderbots on the prowl.”

It was still hard to comprehend that this place had literal walking, talking furry robots and no one seemed to mind it or think it was out of the ordinary. It made sense that a themed restaurant like Freddy Fazbear’s would have them, but a random Bible school camp? It just seemed so weird...and there was no guessing how much those things cost.

“Man,” Kennedy said from above Taylor. “Do we still have any of the VeggieTales DVDs we took the other week?” 

“Uh, maybe,” replied Mateo, reaching down to slap his hand flatly on one of the planks holding his mattress in and keeping him from falling onto Maya. “Maya dearest, do we have VeggieTales for the baby?” He said in a mock tone, giving Kennedy a puppy-dog look.

“I’m not deaf, Matty,” Maya grumbled, but stood and checked the drawers. “Fuck yeah baby, this one’s the one with the hairbrush,” She announced, withdrawing her hand from the dresser’s drawers to showoff a rather beaten up DVD case boasting the dumbest looking vegetables of all time.

“Hell yeah, movie night for the new kid!” Kennedy cheered as Maya inserted the disc into the old DVD player, which probably weighed at least two hundred pounds. 

“Woo,” Taylor said sarcastically, though it did mean a lot to her that these weird conversion camp kids were being so welcoming to her. And she did secretly enjoy a good VeggieTales episode on occasion. 

That night, all of the Recovery Kids fell asleep to Larry the Cucumber singing about his lost hairbrush. It made for some weird ass dreams.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked this chapter!! It was really fun to write. I am VIBING,,, still messing with formatting bc this sucks but a


	4. Ecclesiastes 5:3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Taylor has a weird dream and meets the head reverend of Ark.

"For a dream comes with much business, and a fool's voice with many words."

Ecclesiastes 5:3

* * *

The lights were off. Taylor was walking through the dark hallways of the Ark compound, her footsteps echoing eerily on the linoleum tiles. She couldn’t remember why she was out of the bunkroom or where she was going, but her sneaker-clad feet kept on moving, so she followed them.

The new camper found herself in the auditorium. It was nearly pitch-black, but Taylor’s eyes had adjusted to the darkness during the walk there, so she could see that the curtains on the stage were drawn. She approached the stage, squinting through the thick darkness, and was eventually able to make out the faint silhouettes of two large figures standing in the shadowed center of the stage. They were static. “Hello?” Taylor asked, her voice deeper and scratchier than usual.

Something clicked and a bright light flooded the stage, causing Taylor to stumble back and squeeze her eyes shut in recoil. When the initial shock of the blinding light faded, she pried her eyes open, revealing two animatronics standing in a spotlight.

Taylor recognized both robots from the posters plastered around the Ark. One was an orangish lion with a rainbow mane that carried two stone tablets, one in each hand. The other was a slightly shorter lamb with a golden halo held above its head by a thin wire. A blue scarf was wrapped around its shoulders and she held a cross in her right hand...or hoof?

The two animatronics were standing straight, their eyes shut. The light shone on their odd, plasticky outer shells. Taylor could see the dust particles in the air around them gently floating about as dust often did. That quiet moment was interrupted by the whirr of machinery as the lion’s torso swiveled to point its head at her, its blue eyes flying open. It paused there for a second, the momentum of the simple movement stopped in its tracks by its own hardware, before it turned its head ever so slightly so that they were making direct eye contact. 

Taylor stepped back, frightened. This sort of shit always freaked her out. She used to go to Freddy Fazbear’s with her parents when she was a kid, and once she got around eight years old, the robots stopped being entertaining and started being really creepy. This proved her point.

The mechanical beast’s jaw fell open in that weird, sloppy yet calculated way older animatronics worked, revealing fake white teeth. The speaker within it crackled for a moment before sputtering out in a warbled, masculine voice, “Shall men seek death—” Its plastic eyelashes quietly clattered against its head as its eyelids attempted a blink. “And shall not find it.”

\-----

  
  


Taylor woke up in a bit of a cold sweat, her eyes flying open. It was still dark in their room, as they had no windows, so she couldn’t see the clock on the wall. Luckily, the radio had a small digital clock display that glowed a gentle green, allowing her to see that it was six o’clock in the morning. Wonderful.

The bed above her shifted, though no one seemed to be awake yet. Taylor didn’t want to get up, as she’d probably wake everyone else, and where would she go, anyway? She didn’t know when the robots’ security thing was turned off, and she didn’t know what they’d do if she was caught, so it was better to stay in bed.

The girl stared at the boards holding Kennedy’s bunk up above her, her vision fuzzy in the dark. She made a game of trying to trace the lines in the wood with her eyes through the dark, and it kept her distracted for at least a few minutes. It probably gave her eye strain, too.

In the absence of anything else to do, Taylor’s mind wandered to the events before this weird trip to Ark. She was going to go into her sophomore year of high school if she could make it through this summer. She had been working after school as a babysitter to save up for a car since she was nearly sixteen. She and Harper had talked about going on a big road trip once they’d gotten their licenses… God, it hurt to think about her now. What was she doing now? Did she know what had happened? Was she in trouble, too?   
  
Taylor hoped not. She liked Harper—sometimes she thought she loved her, but she wasn’t sure. It was like, whenever she was around her, she felt so  _ good _ . Like, genuinely good and happy. She always thought about her. But there was something looming over them that always made her feel relieved to be away from Harper after hanging out with her.

Maybe it was the fact that Taylor wanted to kiss her. The fact that she thought about her way too much when everything was quiet and she often wished they could just sit under some blankets and watch stupid movies and forget about everything and just focus on each other and hold hands and—

Maybe it was the fact that Alex existed. Not that he was a bad guy. He was Taylor’s good friend, actually, but the fact that he was Harper’s boyfriend just made everything so much more complicated. And the way Harper kept her on edge, telling her how happy she was in her relationship yet still talking to her about how she sometimes wished they could date instead and how she thought she might like her—like,  _ like _ like her—made Taylor feel so strange.

She wondered how Alex was doing. They’d had a bit of an argument before Taylor left over something she could barely remember. It was mostly her fault. She’d had so much pent-up resentment—no, jealousy—that Alex took the brunt of it. She never got to apologize to him.

Maybe Harper and Alex were better off without her, anyway. All Taylor did was cause problems in a year-long, rather happy relationship. Maybe this summer would let Harper get over her confusion and help them grow happier together. Maybe this is why all the staff (it seemed they were called counselors, but that made it seem like a fun summer camp when it wasn’t, so Taylor would continue to call them staff) thought being gay was a sin. It just fucked up straight people’s relationships.

Before she could get further lost in thought, an odd whirring noise pulled Taylor out of her daze. The whirring was followed by a thud, a light tap, and then another whir.  _ Boom, tap, whir.  _ That noise brought a dream she’d had that night to the front of Taylor’s mind—the auditorium, the robots, the weird, cryptic message...jeez, this place was already getting to her and it’d been less than twenty-four hours.

Taylor listened until the odd pattern of thuds, taps, and whirs eventually faded as the assumed animatronic continued its patrol. Morning was nearly upon them, so it was probably going back to its spot behind the stage. Hopefully.

A few more minutes passed before the silence that had once again settled upon the room was broken by the piercing cry of the alarm clock on the radio. Six-thirty. Good to know that was the wake-up time here.

Slowly, groggily, the rest of the Recovery Kids arose from their slumber. Well, all but Kennedy, who remained unmoving in her bunk. As Taylor rose, Maya turned on the light, eliciting a groan from beneath the covers. “Rise and shine,” said Maya, flicking the lights a couple of times before leaving them on to go make her bed. “Up time.”   
  
“No,” Kennedy complained, not moving.

Taylor stretched, popping her back as Mateo climbed down from his bunk and went to get a uniform for himself out of the drawer. “Yep,” He retorted, stacking a comb and some toiletries on top of his clothes. “You better be up when I’m back,” He added, then left the room, presumably going to the bathroom to get ready for the day.   
  
Maya and Taylor got their things and left, leaving Kennedy to hopefully get out of bed and get dressed. Taylor followed Maya to the bathrooms, which were being guarded by Mr. Jefferson and Ms. Gregory, each sitting in a chair by the doors. They passed a few other staff members on their way, including Reverend Evans, who bid them both a good morning. Maya told Taylor that he was going to do a room sweep, as he did every morning, to make sure that nothing suspicious had been going on through the night.

The Recovery kids got up the earliest, Taylor was informed, because the Ark staff didn’t want them having contact with the children during such a vulnerable time as changing clothes. Ah, yes, the old ‘gays are pedophiles’ thing. She wasn’t surprised, but she wasn’t exactly pleased either. An omen for things to come in this shithole, apparently.

Taylor slipped on the uniform given to her the previous day (why a camp had a school-like uniform, she didn’t know) and looked in the mirror. Eugh. The rather drab outfit consisted of a logo-less light blue polo shirt and a navy plaid skirt, along with nearly knee-high white socks. When had this become a shitty boarding school movie from a few decades ago?

“Lookin’ cool,” Kennedy said, walking into the bathroom as Taylor inspected herself, nearly scaring the shit out of her. “Less butch.”   
  
Kennedy herself was a mess, her long hair all tangled and her shirt and pajamas pants wrinkled and awry. Still pretty, though. “Just ‘cause I’ve got short hair doesn’t make me butch,” Taylor protested.   
  
“Dyed, too,” Kennedy added with a grin, pulling a brush out of her toiletry bag and attempting to tame her unruly hair. “Greg really doesn’t like that, but I guess shaving your head would make you even more masc, and we’re here to be True Women,” She winked, keeping her voice low to prevent the aforementioned staff member from hearing.

“Oh, whatever,” Taylor shook her head in exasperation. “I’m going back to the room. What time are our...classes? Is that what they’re called?”

“I guess ‘class’ works. They call ‘em ‘exercises’,” Kennedy answered, hair now conquered. “I think the Reverend or someone’ll give you a schedule at breakfast, ‘cause we’ve all got different ones.”   
  
“Oh, cool,” Taylor said, picking up her things and exiting the bathroom. Kennedy gave a very polite grunt in farewell, yawning and putting toothpaste on her toothbrush.

\---

“How was your first night here, Taylor?” Reverend Evans asked from across the table. She’d been seated closer to him for breakfast—he’d obviously planned this. “I haven’t been able to talk to you yet.”

Taylor swallowed the toast she’d been working on and looked up at the bald priest, not liking the way he looked at her in return. It was almost as if he was sizing her up. For what, she didn’t know, but she knew she didn’t like it. He had such a predatory air about him. Perhaps it was the oddly cold, emotionless expression of his eyes that contrasted his kindly southern accent, or maybe the way his smile was just a little too wide for his round face. “It was alright,” She answered simply, not wanting to put forth the effort of seeming invested in the conversation with this man. They’d barely spoken, but she already knew she didn’t like him. He was the head of this place, after all, on top of everything else off-putting about him. “I woke up a little early, but it was an uneventful sleep.”

That was a lie. Taylor had already had a strange dream about the stupid animatronics and it was only her first day—nightmares were obviously going to pursue her here, even if the dreams weren’t that frightening yet. She got nightmares a lot when she was stressed. Another wonderful omen.

“That’s good,” The reverend said, taking a bite of his bacon. None of the campers had gotten any bacon. “We’re so glad to have you here, Taylor. I spoke to your father over the phone a few times, and he told me how bright a girl you are, but that you’ve been struggling recently. I think that you will be so much happier—back to normal—once we’re able to get to the bottom of your sinful nature.”

“Yeah,” Taylor replied, taking a sip of water. She hadn’t even been awake for an hour and they were already talking about praying the gay away? It was too early for this.

“Say ‘yes, sir’,” Reverend Evans corrected, pointing his fork at her nonchalantly, the utensil balanced carelessly between two fingers. He loudly swallowed a syrup-covered bite of waffle. “I know you may think this is silly right now, but I promise you, once you hear the true Word of God and humble yourself before it, you will be glad your father sent you to us.”

“Yes, sir,” Taylor mumbled, too tired to argue. This was stupid. They weren’t going to get anywhere by harassing her with God-talk at seven-thirty in the morning.

“Mm,” said the reverend around his fork. “I think you will do well here, Taylor. You know why most Christians don’t support the death penalty?”

That was an incredibly worrying question coming from a pastor that was in charge of her living conditions for the summer. “No, sir.”   
  
Reverend Evans smiled. “We believe there’s always room for God in someone’s heart, even when all hope seems to be lost,” He said. “Even in the eleventh hour of the eleventh day, one of the criminals being crucified with Jesus was forgiven of his sins. There is hope for you yet.”   
  
Geez. He was acting like she was all-consumed by her love for women—like it was ruining her life or something. She just liked girls. Why was it such a problem? “I’m–I’m glad,” Taylor stuttered, kind of unsure of what to say.

The pastor hummed, seemingly pleased by her response. “Good,” He said. “When I dismiss everyone from our meal, don’t go yet. You’ll be with me for our first section of the day.”

“Yes, sir,” Taylor replied, not put at ease at all by the priest’s vague way of speaking. Great. She got special alone time with the reverend, who was already giving her weird vibes.

After breakfast, Taylor remained in the auditorium as instructed, offering to help clean up the area with the seemingly nameless volunteers nearly her age. Her offer was politely rejected, meaning she had to stand there awkwardly while they put away the dining table and cleaned up the trash.

Everything was cleaned up after a moment and everyone remaining in the auditorium dispersed, leaving Taylor alone in the large room. Reverend Evans appeared on the stage, brushing past the closed red curtain. “Why don’t you come up here with me?” He offered calmly, though she knew it was an order rather than a suggestion. People with authority liked to use thinly veiled commands like that.

“Sure,” Taylor quickly found the short set of stairs that led up onto the stage and ascended, her feet making that familiar clip-clip sound on wood when it was too hard to discern whether it was real or fake wood. She stopped a few feet away from the reverend, unsure of what to do. “Uh, what’s up?” She asked after a brief moment of silence.

The elderly, rather round man turned to her with a scarily kind grin. He had previously been staring out at the empty repurposed gymnasium like a captain of a ship looking out at the ocean. A rather pathetic ocean, this one. “Well, as you’re new here, I have some things to give you to get you adjusted,” He said, withdrawing a small paper booklet from his pocket. It was one of those white-paper books held together by office staples that the camp had obviously printed itself. The cover read ‘Ark of the Covenant Recovery Program Code of Conduct’. Lovely. “Our rules and ideals are contained in this booklet—it’ll give you all the basic information you need to know to begin your recovery.”

“Thanks,” Taylor said, not bothering to keep her replies anything more than short.

She took the booklet and flipped through it, disdain growing. The first couple of pages were a wonderfully disgusting display of bad Christian clipart taken off the first page of Google Images alongside excited claims that Ark of the Covenant Recovery Camps are here for YOU and want to see you find the light of Christ again!

After that superfluous bullshit came the rules. Before the actual rules, the Ten Commandments were printed for some reason, along with the Beatitudes. Then came the real shit. No physical contact with campers, no encouragement of or participating in ‘homosexual or transgendered behavior’, no cursing, no tampering with electronic devices such as phones or robots (she would think about that later), no wearing regular clothes without permission, no ‘radical appearances’, and more! Wild. Taylor very much wanted to know what the Ark classified as radical.

“You’ll have time to read through the whole thing later,” Reverend Evans said, handing her a sheet of paper. “Speaking of which, this is your schedule. It’s different depending on the day, so make sure you get each day memorized.”

“Thank you,” said Taylor, taking the printer-paper schedule and glancing over it. It was organized like a school schedule, with different blocks and shit set up in a chart format. What made it worse than a school schedule was that instead of the usual five days there were seven. Good to know weekends were chock full of fun de-gaying activities as well!

“It’s Wednesday, so you’re currently supposed to be at morning Bible study with Mr. Williams and the other Recovery campers. We don’t tolerate tardiness, but you get a pass today since I called you here. I believe you met Mr. Williams yesterday, correct?”

“Yeah,” Taylor nodded, putting the papers in her bag. Yeah, bag. They had to carry around backpacks like they were at school, except instead of homework, they’d be lugging around Bibles and prayer books and...whatever else Christian camps did. Yet another reason to love this place. 

“Since you aren’t very familiar with our building yet, I’ll show you the way,” The reverend offered heartily, placing his hand on Taylor’s shoulder as he moved past her to painstakingly lower his large body down the stairs leading back down to the auditorium floor.

Taylor followed Reverend Evans down at least three hallways, none of which were familiar at all to her despite her two tours of the warehouse. They eventually somehow arrived at Mr. Williams’ room, which she did recognize from meeting the staff member yesterday. The reverend clicked open the door, offering a definitely disingenuous grin to the room. “I’ve got Ms. Taylor Winters for you, Mr. Williams,” He purred in his sickening southern drawl.

Mr. Williams was perched on the heavy wooden table that took up the majority of his room, his feet planted in a chair. He had an annotated Bible open on his dress pant-covered thighs and a small pair of reading glasses balanced on his nose, which he took off as the reverend greeted him. “Oh, hello, Reverend!” Mr. Williams smiled. “Happy to have you here! You can just take a quick seat next to our friend Owen over here and we’ll get you started. We’re workin’ on Genesis today.”

With a quick glance around the small room, Taylor could see Maya, Mateo, and Kennedy spread out among four or five other, slightly younger kids. Maybe the Ark did tolerate group-mixing for such tame things as Bible study. Maya gave her a wince-smile as she sat down next to her, placing her backpack on the ground next to her chair. A Bible was already conveniently placed in front of her for her viewing pleasure. “Welcome to school, but worse,” Maya muttered in greeting before Mr. Williams began talking about the original heterosexuals, the infamous Adam and Eve.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you like this chapter!! Hit a bit of a block with this one but I finally managed to push through :D


End file.
